


The Taste of Vanilla

by Ms_Chanandler_Bong



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: But Connor is a tease, F/M, Fluff, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Licking is involved, Mild Smut, Other, Robot/Human Relationships, Stress Relief, and it isn't Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 19:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15564909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Chanandler_Bong/pseuds/Ms_Chanandler_Bong
Summary: The brave new world is finally at peace. You get to enjoy the simple things in life again. And as it turns out, so does Connor. Let's see just how much of the basic stuff can he take before it goes south.Hint: it leaves a sweet aftertaste.





	The Taste of Vanilla

**Author's Note:**

> **Hello you lovely people of AO3! This is officialy my first shindig over here, and I'm slightly (a lot) nervous. Just a little fluff one-shot with a touch of raunchiness that sort of happened in my mind during the day. Lo and behold, I actually wrote it down! The same day!**  
> 
>  
> 
> I apologise for any typos you run into. Tried hard to weed it out, but one never knows.  
> This is entirely on Connor and his continued occupation of my twisted brain. But I love him anyway.  
> I highly recommend to play **Kaleo - Way Down We Go** while reading this little piece.
> 
> Aight, here we go, enjoy! *runs to hide in advance*

“Thanks!”

You took both cones from the elderly lady behind the counter, careful not to drop the ice cream as you turned around.

“You’re welcome, dear,” the lady grinned. “First time?” she addressed Connor, brows arched.

“Yes, Ma’am,” came a rather nervous reply and you chuckled, presenting him with the obscenely large cone of ice-cream. Since Connor hardly expressed any preferences, you ordered for him vanilla soft serve, extra large. And if he wouldn’t like it, you had an excuse to devour a second cone. _Win win scenario._

The lady laughed, waving his doubts off. “Bah, you’ll love it, no worries!” 

“Oh I’m sure he will. Have a good one!” 

You made your way through the park to a clearing perfect for your intentions, and after scanning the area, you settled on a spot further down from the path. 

 

“Alright-y, looks good,” your free hand pulled him to sit next to you, carelessly toeing off your sandals.

Brown eyes were dancing between you and the cone in his left hand, as if still unsure what to make of it.  
You didn’t have that problem, munching happily away on your choc-vanilla mix. “Well, what are you waiting for? At this rate it’ll melt,” you smirked. “Or worse, I’ll claim it.”

Connor’s brows pinched, creasing his forehead in that expressive manner you secretly admired so much. “I-I’m unsure how to proceed.”

That earned him an eye roll. “Oh please, you’ve seen me. You’ve seen nearly a dozen more people at the stand. It’s not a rocket science, just an ice cream. Besides, it was your idea.”

He sighed, clearly not amused, and you watched as the tip of his tongue gingerly darted out to take the first experimental lick. A curious smile spread across your face.

After what felt like eternity, he swallowed. 

Blinked. 

The LED flashed golden.

And then, finally, he smiled, eyes meeting yours. You were helpless to the sight and could only mirror the pleasantly surprised look. “I think...no, I’m positive I like ice cream.”

Your cheerful giggle filled the air. “HA! Told you. You really have to listen to me more often.”

Nudging him with your ankle, you braced yourself on the free hand behind your back. “Frankly, that stand sells the best vanilla ice cream in town. And boy, look how massive it is,” eyebrows wiggled as you slurped on the treat some more. 

“Noted, Y/N, though I never doubted your suggestions.”

You snickered. “Oh really? News to me,” he shifted closer to you, playful smile tugging at his _oh-so-kissable_ lips. 

“Of course. You’ve proven to be quite...resourceful in our liaisons.”

The ice cream nearly went down the wrong pipe. You didn’t need a mirror to know the telltale signs of pink flush spreading across your cleavage, over the unmistakably scandalised face to the very tips of your ears.  
“Uh-” _Very eloquent._

Amused sparks dancing in his eyes said it all. How could he go from a seemingly helpless puppy to such a tease in a matter of minutes was beyond your comprehension.

You decided to refocus on the ice-cream. “Yeah...well played.”

“Thank you,” you could practically taste the smugness.

Connor’s body relaxed next to yours, sides touching, and you felt his fingers drawing idle patterns on the exposed skin of your back. Every now and then they skimmed over the thin straps of your top, chasing goosebumps across your shoulders and arms.  
Content with your place in the universe, you enjoyed the cool treat and company of your favourite person in silence, slurping quietly to your heart’s desire. He watched the serene expression slowly settling on your face, and wondered where would the wind of your thoughts take you.

It had been over six months since the world-changing events concerning androids and their humanity.  
The first month had been a crazy whirl of changes and previously unheard of actions, dragging you into the fray through your ties to Connor. Initially you’d worried senseless, clearly pessimistic about how the things would progress. Your view of the mankind could be described as dim at best. 

And Connor had always been there to reassure you with that frankly annoying optimism, despite his previous experience with humans. Till this day you were baffled where did it all stem from. You were almost sure he’d put up the act to ease your troubled mind.

The night of November 11th was fresh in your memory as if it was yesterday. You’d shut off TV, ignored all the terrifying noises outside, and retired (run) to the bathroom. The white vastness of its ceiling was hypnotising as you hugged your naked body hours later in the long-cold bath, paralysed by the fear of what the dawn would bring.

But he’d come back. Like he’d promised he would. And all you could remember was his face blurred behind the veils of your tears.  
_Alive. Alive. **Alive!**_

“...Y/N?” feather-like touch coaxed you back to reality, your eyes instantly searching for comfort. Your shallow breaths sounded foreign to your ears, the unspoken words threatening to break the dam of your resolve.

“Hi,” dimples at last graced his meticulous face, working magic. “I lost you there for a moment.”

Confused, you swallowed, _too loud,_ and blinked the haziness away. “Ah, yes. Sorry, Connor. I was just- “ you shook your head. “Nevermind. You were saying?”

Perhaps he was still new to the complexity of emotions, but Connor knew better than to pry. Or he made a mental note to ask in private, once the prying eyes of everyone else around wouldn’t be there to judge.  
Instead, the sheer tranquility of his voice reminded you the past is in the past.  
“Please, no need to apologise,” yet his fingers squeezed your shoulder. “I just mentioned you’re falling behind on the task at hand.”

You followed his gaze and noticed your ice-cream was slowly but surely melting in the cone, demanding immediate attention. You welcomed it with vigor, picking up the pace as you moaned your agreement. 

But you still felt the heat of his stare. He wasn’t entertaining the idea of asking you the real question, was he? 

His eyes snapped to the cone in his hand. Melted drips of vanilla ice cream signalled he’d been in fact watching your moment of personal crisis from the front row, and was in quite a predicament. Your brows shot up as you discovered his entire hand was covered by the delicious mess.

“Oh- “ the genuine shock resulted in a fit of laughter. And the longer he glared at it, the more you laughed, waves of relief washing over your entire being. No matter how much you tried to stop laughing at his very apparent misery, you couldn’t help it. Alternating between mach speed ice cream consumption and laughter wasn’t an easy feat, either.

“Very funny indeed, Y/N,” he shot you half-hearted scowl as he followed suit and you both made a quick work of your respective cones. 

“I was under the impression laughing at somebody’s expense is considered rude.”

You laughed some more, shaking head.

“You’re trying really hard here, Connor. I know your tells, though, you wanna laugh just as much as I do,” she jabbed a finger at his chest. “It’s the male ego preventing you.”

“Is that so? I would define it as you being rude.”

“Am _not._ ”

“There’s no need to argue that point. Fortunately, I’ve grown used to your rudeness.”

You gasped. “My **what?!** "

And of course he smirked.

“You are rude, headstrong, impatient, _very_ passionate about expressing your opinion at times -”

Your hands flailed in the air. “Whoah! Where’s this coming from?”

“ - you are challenged by the prospect of respecting authorities, often ignore suggestions that should be open for discussion -”

“You’re keeping a list or what?”

“ - you have an attitude. And yes, I have rather extensive list regarding your personality.”

He challenged your defiant glare. You were torn between smacking his head silly and tackling him on the lawn in the most obscene manner imaginable. The prospect of getting caught for public indecency would have his processing unit running for the hills, no doubt. _See if he’s so smart then._

His act cracked, a satisfied grin celebrating the conquer. 

“Ass.”

“Language, please,” he tut-tutted, playful swat aimed at your arms. 

You licked your lips, tasting the ice cream. “Yeah, yeah…”

He groaned. Brows furrowed, you chanced a glance his way, despite your best efforts. He was analysing the melted remains of the vanilla treat on his hand as if it was crime-scene evidence.

“Well isn’t that freaking unfortunate.”

Without warning, his soulful brown eyes fixed on you. “Please Y/N, could you pass me the tissues? I would like to solve this.”

 _Yeah, right._ Arms comfortably crossed on your chest, you shook your head. “Hmm, I don’t think I have any tissues for you. Sorry, Connor.”

Oh you knew this look, you knew it too well. The puppy eyes had multiple levels of intensity, and you weren’t really 100% resistant, but he was pushing too hard. 

“Y/N, please?”

“Nope,” you sure put effort into stressing the “p” as you revelled in his misery. It was actually quite amusing to see this brilliant mind struggle with freaking ice cream. And perhaps you would settle down for just that.

But you didn’t.

“Though I _do_ offer a solution,” your voice dropped lower, taking him by surprise. 

“Are you serious or is it just another attempt at ridiculing me?”

He sounded almost defensive.

“Oh I’m serious, Connor,” you sat up to be level with his eyes, one hand outstretched towards him, taunting him, daring him to refuse. A moment passed, his eyes scanned over your face, down your neck and chest, eventually caving in, watching your fingers wrap around his wrist.

“You just have to trust me.”

Mischief tainted your features as you pulled his hand dangerously close to your lips, pausing for the effect, to make your intentions known. Quick flash of shock rolled over his face. Reduced to a willing victim, he watched you lick your lips before they got down to business.

Connor's brown irises were swallowed black. His breath hitched. 

Maybe it was illogical for his body to have such response, all things considered, but you weren’t about to complain. The sound made you feel alive as you languidly lapped at the vanilla deliciousness.  
And so did the quiet growl. He was transfixed with the actions of your devious tongue, slowly losing the initial tension your boldness had instilled. 

Your eyes creased under the pressure of a smirk, and you moaned. Deliberately loud, tossing all the pretense of decency out of the window. He moved closer, lower lip in full distress as it quivered.  
_Delicious._

But you weren’t done, not yet. With a deep breath your lips closed around his fingers, sucking diligently, tongue hungry for more. As you basked in your moment of victory, it took your senses drastically longer to acknowledge just how much your little stunt affected Connor. 

He was a picture of thirsty wanderer, staring into the eyes of bottomless well he was willing to drown in. A slow blink was the only warning you got.  
The wicked lips replaced his fingers, and he was relentless. If it weren’t for the possessive grip on your back, pulling you in, you’d surely fall behind, and that would only lead to more trouble. In a feeble attempt to get a grip on the situation, your fingers landed in his hair, pulling on the ridiculously soft strands almost out of spite. 

The kisses felt like the night months ago. Insistent. Animalistic. _Raw._ You felt the desire in each and every one of them. But it was Connor who gave in this time.

World shifted, and you found yourself firm in his lap. You couldn’t stop the involuntary roll of hips. He was everywhere. He devoured you without questions, famished hands gripping you close, roaming over your back, to your sides and hips, while his mouth swallowed soft moans along with the last remnants of your will to stop.  
It was only fair to wave the white flag and succumb to the sweet debauchery he’d pulled you in. You were prepared to claim him there and then.  
Others however weren’t. 

A disgruntled shout reminded you the park wasn’t quite the place for the next course of your actions. You were willing to ignore it, but unfortunately _(thankfully)_ Connor pulled away, and graced you with a sight worthy of place in memory book, despite the quick and not very earnest apology he offered the stranger who dared to interrupt.

He looked positively sinful with flushed cheeks, slightly hooded eyes and parted lips swollen to a delicious degree which seriously tempted you to go in for another round. Briefly you wondered how did you look to him, Mr. Logical. 

“That was - uh, very unexpected.”

His fingers still glided over your back, although in much less scandalising fashion than before. You were quite comfortable to just steady yourself against his strong frame as he disagreed. “Not particularly.”

You laughed. “Was it the fingers?”

He seemed focused before he nodded. “Highly probable.”

Pandora’s box unlocked.  
Your mind entertained countless ways to put this theory to test, to make it a solid 100% instead of _highly probable._

“Although I still need to ask for the tissues. Despite your thorough actions, my hand is sticky.”

He managed to keep the deadpan through your stiffled laughter. 

“Connor, you never cease to amaze me,” you caressed his cheek and slowly got up, shaking your head as you couldn’t wrap your mind around what just happened. No point in trying to find who finished with the upper hand. 

“I told you, no tissues for you,” smiling sweetly, you booped his nose. “I guess you will just have to wait for when we get home and take a shower. Don’t worry though, you can always ask for assistance.”

His eyes zeroed on you with the familiar intensity. “Let’s go then. Time is of the essence.”

Any onlookers would be able to see the shameless satisfaction seeping through your grin as Connor gave you little time to put your sandals back on before he rather firmly grabbed your hand, leading you both out of the park like a man on a mission.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Congratulations, you survived! Thank you so much for reading my story.**  
>  Kudos and comments are of course mega appreciated. Let me know if you liked it, or if you didn't, or just whatever you feel like you want to say. I wanna know! 
> 
> Until next time :)


End file.
